


what you're here for

by littleficlets (addictedkitten)



Category: One Direction (Band), Radio 1 RPF
Genre: Casual Drug Use, M/M, Marijuana
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-26
Updated: 2013-02-26
Packaged: 2017-12-03 16:53:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/700536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/addictedkitten/pseuds/littleficlets
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shotgunning's much easier when you're just starting out. No, trust me, it totally is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	what you're here for

**Author's Note:**

  * For [precanids (iyr)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/iyr/gifts).



"I'm terrible at this," Harry rasps, the first words he can manage to say after the coughing fit that pegged him so clearly as the innocent weed virgin he is. Nick's words, not his. At least they were Nick's last before he gave in and sparked up, taught Harry how to hold the pipe so the smoke wouldn't escape when he inhaled, lit it for him because the fire made Harry nervous. 

"It's alright, it's hard the first time," Nick says. Harry automatically gives him his filthiest grin, and for once Nick doesn't seem immediately immune to it; instead he gives Harry a slow once-over, and Harry uncurls himself for display, feeling looked at. There's smoke on his skin and it isn't enough, a teasing reminder that he's not being touched. "I had to shotgun it when I first started, it's easier that way."

The high's settling in, Harry feels it in his bones. He digs his fingers into the couch, liking the softness of it, the way the fabric gives. "Do it that way with me," Harry says, and touches his own throat like he can feel the words roughing their way out of him, spilling into the smoky air. Nick looks at his mouth, and Harry licks his lips, lets them part in a slow exhale, staring Nick down for ages. No, not ages. Moments, but long ones. Nick's pupils are blown wide, hazel eyes mostly green, and Harry wants to push his face against Nick's face, feeling Nick's hot skin, feel his stubble. Harry shudders at the thought, pushes his knuckles against the couch cushion just to feel something. 

Harry blinks, and Nick asks, "You know how?" already bringing the pipe back to his lips. The lighter sparks and Nick inhales, sets the pipe down, gives Harry a long look and then tilts his head just so, enough that Harry sways forward, twists himself until somehow his knee's just between Nick's, just to get _close_. Nick looks at Harry's thigh, practically across his lap, and then curls his big hand around it, rubbing at the seam of Harry's jeans like he's curious about the denim.

Harry makes a little desperate noise, involuntary and embarrassing, and comes at Nick, taking Nick's face in his hands, stroking his thumbs over Nick's cheekbones and opening his mouth to seal their lips together.

Nick breathes out, giving it to him slow, and Harry takes it greedily, inhaling hot smoke, tilting his head just a fraction so he can feel Nick's soft lips dragging against his own. With closed eyes it feels like a real kiss, what he's wanted from Nick for ages, and if this is all he gets then he'll take it, with slow blood and fire in his lungs, licking out so he feels Nick's tongue on his just for a moment.

It makes Nick startle, so Harry pulls back, holding in the smoke. Nick's still staring at his mouth, and he's got a hand on Harry's arm. He doesn't let go as Harry falls gently back against the couch, his legs still half-draped over Nick's lap. Harry stares at the ceiling and slowly exhales. 

"Good?" Nick asks, a little rusty-voiced himself. Harry gropes blindly around until he finds Nick's hand, then his wrist, tugs him forward. "Do you want to do it again?"

"Mm-hmm," Harry says, and lets his legs fall open, easier for Nick to rest between as Nick takes the pipe back up, lights it, inhales. This time, when Nick leans in, Harry meets him halfway.


End file.
